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When he finishes, he gets rid of the cloth and comes back with a package of makeup wipes. I reach for them, but he gives me a look again, which has me quickly lowering my hands. As if it’s the most natural thing in the world, he pulls a towelette out and starts cleaning off my smeared makeup. One of his hands rests on top of my head, and while he works, his piercing green eyes stay locked with mine. It’s intimate. So intimate.
Slowly, he leans forward and presses a tender kiss to my lips. It’s not a sexual kiss. It’s soft and sweet, and I swear this night is one I’ll never forget. He pulls away and gives me a small, boyish smile that melts my heart.
“You’re perfect,” he says quietly, his forehead resting on mine.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He nods and rises, and I watch in fascination as he gets dressed. By the time he’s fully clothed, he looks as though he just walked out of a boardroom instead of just having wild sex in a BDSM club. Me, on the other hand. I’m pretty sure I look freshly fucked and very pleased about it.
Once he’s done, he picks up my dress and lowers it over my head. He holds out his hand and helps me up from the bed, then kneels and places my heels in front of me.
“Hold on to my shoulders,” he commands.
I do and step into my shoes. My legs feel wobbly, and I can hardly wait to go home and crawl into bed so I can have delicious dreams about tonight.
“Can I have my panties?”
The devilish smirk appears on his face, and his eyes darken slightly. “No.”
I gasp. “People will see my bottom if I don’t have my panties. My dress is short.”
He picks up my cape from the floor and ties it around my neck. “Baby girl, you know me better than that. Do you think your husband would ever allow any other man to see what’s his?”
My husband’s possessive jealousy makes me feel warm all over, and I smile up at him as he stares at me with complete adoration.
“No. You wouldn’t.”
“Never. I don’t share.”
I wrap my arms around his waist and snuggle into his comforting embrace. He presses a kiss to the top of my head.
“Come on, baby girl. Let’s go home so Daddy can put you to bed.”
He takes my hand, grabs the wicker basket I brought, and leads me out of the room. When we turn down a long hall, two suited men start walking with us.
I look up at the one beside me.
“Have fun, lass?” Grady asks.
My cheeks heat, and I avert my gaze from his, as he chuckles and tugs on one of my pigtails.
Being the wife of a mafia boss has its downfalls, but it also has its perks, and these men—the ones who protect me like I’m their own flesh and blood—are definitely one of the biggest perks of this life.
Kieran opens the back door of the waiting SUV and waits as Declan gently loads me into the car and fastens my seatbelt before climbing in after me.
Grady and Kieran get into the SUV ahead of ours, and our driver follows them as they pull away from the club.
I snuggle into Declan’s side and let out a deep breath when he wraps his arm around me.
“Was I too rough with you?” he asks quietly.
Tears fill my eyes at his question. My big, terrifying mobster husband, who scares the piss out of grown men for fun, is worried he was too rough with me.
I look up at him. “No, Daddy. That was amazing. Can we…maybe do it again sometime?”
He stares at me for a long moment before he lowers his face to mine and kisses me.
“Any time you want. You’re my soulmate, Cali Gilroy. I’m the luckiest man in the world.”
